


You're So Cheesy

by twinkrevali



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Comfort Food, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Late night shenanigans, M/M, basically bokuto is a big baby and kuroo is a darling about it, sleepy boys doin cuddly stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 09:04:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4998853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinkrevali/pseuds/twinkrevali
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 3am and Bokuto's got a hankerin for some good ol' mac n cheese.<br/>Nothing is ever as simple as it seems though, especially mac n cheese.</p>
<p>NOW AVAILABLE IN RUSSIAN  (つω`)ノ<br/>https://ficbook.net/readfic/3697479</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're So Cheesy

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a gift for my bestest friend in the entire world, Dilara.  
> I love you I love you (●´艸`)  
> Also a massive thank you to Emelia for yelling abt possible endings with me, they're always the worst part, ur totally awesome thank u thank u orz 
> 
> Enjoy!

It’s three o’clock in the morning and Bokuto is hungry.

He wakes up with a growling stomach, mouth turned down in a frown as he squints at the alarm clock by the bed. Next to him, Kuroo snores from under the pillow wrapped tight around his head, and Bokuto fights the urge to snap a picture before poking at his companions bicep.

“Psst,” he whispers, and Kuroo grunts, shifting so the pillow (and his head) is angled away from the source of disturbance.

Bokuto tries once more, nudging Kuroo’s thigh with his knee as he kneels over the boy, who is now trying to shift away from Bokuto completely. It doesn’t work, with Bokuto merely inching closer as Kuroo tries to move away. They continue like this for a while, moving to and fro, until eventually Bokuto sits back on his calves, all but starving.

“Kuroo,” he tries again, voice urgent, and the pillow sighs before being thrown away to reveal a very sleepy kuroo turning to face Bokuto with heavy lidded eyes.

“What do you want?” The black haired boy grouses, and his voice is still husky with sleep, making him sound grumblier than he actually is. Something unreadable flickers across Bokuto’s face, and he quickly breathes out an, “I’m not angry, what’s up?” before his actual feathers-for-brains boyfriend does something stupid like sulk and fall of the bed trying to sleep without making skin on skin contact with Kuroo.

The expression disappears as quickly as it came though, and Bokuto whines out a childish “I’m hungry,” stomach growling as if on cue; loud and urgent. There’s a moment of silence as the two stare at Bokuto’s stomach in surprise before Kuroo sighs in resignation, pushing himself up and out of the bed.

“Wanna make mac ‘n cheese?” He asks, and Bokuto nods his head enthusiastically, all but leaping out of bed and following Kuroo into the kitchen like a puppy begging for food.

They move around each other with the familiarity and grace of swans floating across a lake, ducking and weaving past each other as they have done a thousand times before, pulling out ingredients from all corners of the tiny kitchen. They look almost a part of one whole, completely in sync with one another’s movements, and Kuroo smiles softly as Bokuto sidles up beside him, placing a pot of water on the stove with a grin.

As they wait for the water to boil in the pot, Bokuto leans with his back to Kuroo’s stomach against the kitchen counter, mewling happily as Kuroo plays with the silvery strands of baby hair at the base of his neck.

“How long does the water take to boil?” Bokuto yawns, and Kuroo huffs out a laugh, mouthing along the lines of his partner’s neck.

“Ten minutes,” he murmurs back, and Bokuto hums in response, relishing the feeling of Kuroo’s mouth against his neck. It’s a familiar warmth, and Bokuto sighs as Kuroo nips along the curve of his shoulders, head drooping forward so as to give Kuroo more access to the pale skin poking out from the neck of his shirt. They lapse into a comfortable silence, Bokuto with his eyes closed, head lolling forward and Kuroo smiling against the warmth of Bokuto’s skin, watching as little pockets of air begin to push their way to the surface of the pot. When the water begins to slosh around the pot, Kuroo nudges Bokuto, smirking as the sleepy figure in his arms jerks awake, hastily pushing himself off Kuroo and grabbing the pasta. They pour the macaroni in the water together, making sure not to splash hot water on each other as the little yellow tubes spill into the pot, gently sinking to the bottom.

“Did you remember to salt the water?” Kuroo asks, and Bokuto blinks twice before slowly reaching for the salt container from beside the stove, scrunching his nose up with a bashful smile.

“Every fucking time,” Kuroo laughs, tugging at Bokuto’s sleeve when the latter has adequately salted the pasta. He pulls Bokuto into his arms, kissing his cheek with a loud smack, and Bokuto squirms, laughing as he tries to protest.

“I need to make the cheese!” Bokuto cries out weakly, and Kuroo stops trying to hold the grey haired figure to his chest, instead looking at his face with an incredulous look.

“You need to make the cheese?” He says, and Bokuto looks at him as though he’s grown two heads. “I thought you were the cheese!”

Silence follows before Bokuto collapses into a fit of giggles, blowing a raspberry on Kuroo’s cheek as he places a small saucepan on the stove, heating it up to prepare the cheese sauce. He stirs the butter, cheese and milk into the pan, taking care not to let the ingredients stick to the sides and burn. They melt together and reduce into a creamy mixture, making Bokuto’s mouth water. When he’s satisfied with the results, he turns the heat of the stove down, letting the mixture simmer gently.

Kuroo watches from where he’s still leaning against the counter, ready to jump in at any moment. The moment never comes though, Bokuto handling the heat all by himself, but before Kuroo has the chance to be proud, Bokuto burns his tongue trying to taste the cheese sauce, shouting as he screws his eyes shut and turns to face Kuroo with his tongue protruding from his mouth, red and inflamed. Kuroo wants to feel bad, but the sight of Bokuto with his tongue poking out in such a ridiculous manner makes Kuroo laugh, earning him a scornful look from Bokuto.

“C’mere,” Kuroo says, mock exasperation in his voice, and Bokuto shuffles over, tongue still stuck out like he’s imitating a little lizard.

Before the grey haired boy can withdraw it back into his mouth to speak, however, Kuroo leans over and kisses it, earning a drawn out “ewwww” from the main party involved. Kuroo watches Bokuto with a raised eyebrow as he fusses about the fact that ‘Kuroo that was my tongue that’s so gross’ before throwing back a flippant, “I’ve kissed worse things than your tongue,” thus effectively leaving Bokuto spluttering as he turns back to his sauce, ears burning. As Bokuto turns to the cheese though, he freezes, an eerie silence settling over the kitchen, and Kuroo shifts uncomfortably against the bench, goosebumps peppering his skin. The silence hangs heavy in the air as Kuroo takes a careful step towards Bokuto.

“Hey hey, is everything alright?” He says gently, and Bokuto starts slightly at the sound, but makes no effort to respond.

In hindsight, giving Bokuto the responsibility of caring for a food item with the capability to burn wasn’t the best idea, but unfortunately Kuroo realises this much too late, watching helplessly as Bokuto turns slowly, blank expression on his face.

“The cheese is burnt,” he says.

“Oh.” Kuroo replies, “What are we gonna do now?”

There’s a moment of silence as Bokuto turns back to stare into the depths of the blackened pan with an unfamiliar expression before he turns off the stove silently and faces Kuroo once more.

“I burnt the cheese,” he says.

“I realised that,” Kuroo says back, and if you were to film Bokuto’s face in slow motion right now, Kuroo swears he could pinpoint the exact moment in which Bokuto’s heart bursts into a million tiny pieces, stomach groaning sadly.

“What are we going to do?” Bokuto frowns, looking between Kuroo and the miserable cheese-ash with an increasingly distressed expression. “What are we gonna do, Kuroo?” he all but whimpers, voice watery as he looks at Kuroo imploringly.

Kuroo’s been through this too many times to not know how this situation is going to end, and he decides to be proactive, sitting a now despondent Bokuto on the kitchen bench like a child and racing to their bedroom, pulling out an extra large grey sweater. It smells like tea and mothballs, and it’s the only thing that can manage to calm Bokuto down when he slips into a Bad Mood.

When he moves back into the kitchen, Bokuto is back up stirring at the pasta with dead eyes, moving purely on autopilot, and the helplessness of it all makes Kuroo smile with hopeless affection.

“C’mon,” he says, leading Bokuto away from the pot and turning the water off. “We’ll go get some from the store, put your sweater on.”

Bokuto complies, pulling the sweater his head and all but burrowing into the warmth of it.

They walk out of their building hand in hand, and Kuroo guides Bokuto into the passenger’s seat with gentle force, kissing him softly when he’s settled.

“We’re gonna be alright, we’ll get your favourite brand of instant mac, yeah?” He says, pulling the seatbelt over and strapping the droopy figure into the car. He waits until Bokuto nods sadly, expelling a soft ‘hooo’ as he sinks into the sweater further, looking almost comical with his feathery hair floating around his head, neck hidden by the swell of folds in the thick fabric.

They drive through the back streets slowly, a different kind of comfort settling around them. As Kuroo glances over at Bokuto, he watches as the street lamps illuminate his face at even intervals, almost creating a flip-book of dejected despair. The night is serene though, and they drive in silence until Bokuto leans over noncommittally and turns on some music, the soft sounds of a foreign artist filling the empty space.

“This is your favourite song, isn’t it?” Kuroo asks as he skips through, stopping when he notices Bokuto perk up slightly.

“Mergh,” Bokuto replies, and Kuroo is counting that as a win as he watches his passenger begin to emerge from the depths of the sweater, like a tortoise slowly poking it’s head out of it’s shell.

By the time they get to the twenty four hour market, neon sign looming over them, Bokuto seems to be in better spirits, tapping out the rhythm of the music along his thigh. They make their way into the store, with Bokuto holding onto Kuroo’s sleeve like a child, sweater almost hanging off his shoulder. They’re the only customers present in the store, as far as they can tell, and Kuroo turns to flash Bokuto a devious smile before ducking down an unsupervised aisle.

“What are you do–” Bokuto starts to say, trotting after his counterpart, but before he can finish his sentence Kuroo pushes him up against the shelf, stray cans crashing to the floor around them.

“There’s no one around, I wanna kiss you,” Kuroo says matter-of-factly, and Bokuto isn’t given time to respond before Kuroo’s mouth is on his, hot and familiar. They inhale each others scent through their noses, mouths working in perfect rhythm with one another as they slide over the swell of each others lips. Kuroo ghosts his hands up and down Bokuto’s sides, trailing kisses across the boys jaw, and Bokuto fists Kuroo’s shirt into his hands, bringing pulling their bodies flush.

They break the kiss with a quiet ‘pop’, and Bokuto rests his forehead against Kuroo’s, trying to keep his breathing even.

“Are you feeling better?” Kuroo grins as he pulls back, wiping stray spit off Bokuto’s lip, and the figure before him nods dumbly, turning to almost float down the aisle as Kuroo shakes with laughter, placing the fallen cans back on their respective shelf. It’s silly, and ridiculous, and every other stupid adjective Kuroo can think of, jogging after his companion, who’s about to turn the corner down another aisle.

They duck down the rows of food like they’re playing hide-and-seek, snatching the air from each others lungs as they trip over each other’s feet. By the time they find the instant macaroni and cheese, they’re both flushed and giddy, grinning at one another with their hands tangled together. They slam the box of macaroni on the checkout desk, and their cashier raises an eyebrow, snapping her gum in a manner that suggests she doesn’t get paid enough to work graveyard shifts while ridiculous man-children wreak havoc throughout the store. She doesn’t say anything other than “That’ll be five hundred yen,” though, so they thank her and practically race each other to the car, Bokuto now almost completely back to normal. There’s still something off though, and on the car ride home the streetlights paint Bokuto’s face in fleeting washes of gold, documenting his face dropping from a smile, to a frown, to a look of total despair as he tries to read the instructions for the macaroni in the darkness.

“Don’t sweat it,” Kuroo says quickly, glancing over at Bokuto with a lopsided smile, “we’ll figure it out, okay?”

He counts it as another win when Bokuto gives one affirmative nod, looking down at the box with a new face of determination.

\---

When they arrive home, Kuroo sits Bokuto on the kitchen counter again, leaning against the bench between his legs as he reads the instructions for cooking the pasta. They pull one sachet out of the box and share a look before Kuroo grins.

“Wanna make three packets worth?” He says, tilting his head up to Bokuto, who looks down at him with wide eyes.

“Yes.” Is the only response he’s given, and Kuroo laughs as he rummages through their cupboards to find a bowl big enough for three servings worth of the pasta. Once they’d figured out how long to cook the pasta for, Kuroo sets about cleaning the mess from before, draining the water from the pot where a packet of macaroni sits miserably at the bottom, looking swollen and sad. He scrapes at the sides of the saucepan for a moment before deciding he it’s a lost cause.

“We’ll get a new pan tomorrow,” he reassures Bokuto, who looks like he’s on the verge of becoming one with his sweater. “One of those non-stick pans, so we wont have to worry about that kind of stuff anymore, okay?”

Bokuto stares at his lap for a moment before giving the slightest of nods, pushing himself off the kitchen bench and shuffling into Kuroo, burying his face in the crook of the boy’s neck.

“I’m sorry I broke our saucepan,” he says, and the vibrations from his voice send shivers down Kuroo’s spine.

“It’s fine,” he hums, running his index finger along each vertebrae in Bokuto’s back, and he feels Bokuto’s breath puff along his collarbone, the tiniest kisses being pressed into his skin. They stay that way, savouring the feeling of being held together, until the sound of the microwave snaps them back to reality. Bokuto bounds to the microwave, opening the door in a cloud of steam, and Kuroo throws a towel at his head as he reaches to pull the boiling contents of the machine out with his bare hands.

“You need those, asshole,” Kuroo drawls, and Bokuto turns to him, affronted.

“I could have handled it! Watch!!” He exclaims, and Kuroo watches with raised eyebrows as Bokuto attempts to pull the bowl out without a towel.

“Okay,” he says after withdrawing his hand, “so the towel is just like, whatever anyway.”

There’s a pout in the way he speaks, wrapping the soft towel around the bowl and pulling it out slowly, turning to place it on the bench with the utmost care, and Kuroo watches on with an amused expression, opening a packet of the powdered cheese sauce silently.

“I can feel you judging me,” Bokuto grouses, trying to open his own cheese packet. He stops struggling when the packet all but explodes, covering the front of his sweater in an orange dust. It’s all Kuroo can do to not laugh, cheeks going red as he watches Bokuto stand limply, total look of devastation flickering across his face.

“I’m gonna go,” Bokuto says after a minute, and for a second Kuroo worries he’s finally broke, until Bokuto stomps over to their lounge room and flops onto the couch, flipping through the channels until he finds an infomercial for some weight machine. Alone in the kitchen, Kuroo laughs softly to himself, stirring the sauce into the pasta before pulling two spoons out of the drawer and moving over to where Bokuto lays sprawled on the couch.

“Move your ass,” Kuroo pokes at Bokuto with his toe, nudging the boy's waist until he’s curled in on himself and gasping for air.

“S-top, you kn–ow I’m ticklish!!” Bokuto hoots, and Kuroo relents, dropping onto the cushion with a giggle. He offers a spoon to Bokuto, who takes it, eyeing off the sticky golden tubes of pasta in the bowl between them.

“Thank you for the meal,” he says in a single breath, and presses a quick kiss to Kuroo’s temple before shovelling the food into his mouth like a man possessed.

“I’m gonna buy you one of those puzzle feeders people get for their dogs,” Kuroo mutters, bringing a small scoop of the food up to his own mouth and Bokuto smiles at him, cheeks full of pasta. He looks like some sort of chipmunk, and Kuroo just huffs out a laugh, rubbing his chest slightly as he feels a surge of affection flood his heart almost painfully.

When they’ve finished eating, they curl into one another on the couch, watching the sun beginning to peek over the skyline through the window. Kuroo bites back a yawn, chest heaving, and Bokuto blinks up at him blearily, kissing the closest part of his body, which, apparently, is Kuroo’s elbow.

“Are you okay?” Kuroo chuckles, peering down at Bokuto curiously.

“Thank you…for—” Bokuto begins to say again, but the warmth and comfort of their position gets the better of him, and he drifts off mid-sentence, snoring softly against Kuroo’s stomach.

“Hey,” Kuroo smiles down at the figure in his lap, “serves you right for waking us up so early,” he mutters, but despite his tone, Kuroo can feel his own eyelids drooping, face warm against the morning sun filtering through the window. As he feels himself drift off, he reaches for Bokuto’s hand, letting their fingers entwine lazily. _This is as it’s supposed to be_ , he thinks, letting sleep finally take over.

_It’s as it always should be_.


End file.
